Her Odds Are Ever In His Favour
by lauramariadavis
Summary: Being the President's lap dog felt more like being a prisoner, & Katniss had never been one to enjoy a prisoners pain no matter what they had done in the past to get there. Seneca had his own hidden agenda, and it involved the Girl on Fire staying alive.
1. We've Met Before

"Have you ever been out to the poorer districts; eleven and twelve?" President Snow asks Seneca as he turns his beady blue eyes from the rose bush he was admiring to the Head Gamemaker. Seneca feels his breath catch in his throat at the question, and suddenly the scenery begins to play tricks on him, and his mind is trying to think of somewhere else – somewhere he has not been for a while, now. Before he can fall in to the memory, he shakes his head once, quickly, and looks back at the President with a disorientated gaze. He cannot stop the memory – it has repeated through his mind constantly whilst _she_ has been back in his life – whether that be on his television screen or in his company – so much that he is now secretly rooting for her.

.x.x.

_It was around a year ago that Seneca Crane did, in fact, head out to District 12._

It was the strangest yet most mesmerising place that he had ever seen. Seneca felt as if he was a trespasser as he made his way through the town square alone; that was the first time he realized why his fellow Capitol citizens preferred to travel with a Peacekeeper or two, but he had refused them and even then – whilst he walked and felt the hostile glares from the citizens of District 12 boring into him from all sides – he did not regret his decision of keeping bodyguards away. Seneca did nothing to help the District, of course... Truth be told he did not really understand what drove him to visit the poorest District amongst them in the first place, but he knew that he had to find... _something_?

The Head Gamemaker was on a mission.

He was there for three days – just long enough for no-one to realize that he had ever left. On the third and final day, he decided to walk the fence of District 12, just because he was curious about the design of it. It was a very obnoxious thing to do, but his Capitol lifestyle had got the better of him and he wanted to see just how better off they were to the people working in the coal mines. The fence was a set of stringy barbed wire that was held up by curved, rusted beams. Despite the High Voltage sign, he knew that there was, in fact, no voltage running through this fence at all. District 12 rarely had any electricity, so he knew very well that the fence would be worthless at keeping anyone in.

These caged animals could easily break free, and they have no idea...

That was when he first saw her. She came bursting through the trees – out of the forest – with three dead rabbits tied to her belt; caught red-handed. She had surprised him, and his presence had surprised her. Seneca Crane was the last person she had expected to find in District 12... Her grey eyes were trapped in the icy-blue of his own, wide eyes, and she froze in terror as the adrenaline took over her bloodstream and panic shot down her spine. He could see that she was shaking, and her chest was heaving as she just stood there, staring at him, waiting for him to call a Peacekeeper or five to take her away and kill her for trespassing and leaving District 12's boundaries.

"Who are you?" He asked calmly. The young girl opened her mouth to speak, but her lower lip began to tremble and no words left her mouth, for a minute or so. Then, it was as if she had flicked some sort of emotional switch; she inhaled deeply and, suddenly, any signs of fear were gone – they were replaced with an arrogant demeanour as she made her way to the fence.

"I'm the girl that has to do this _every day_ just to stay alive," She spat before crawling underneath the barbed fencing. He tensed in concern as the spiked cords nearly came in to contact with her body; once he was sure that she had made it back under without an injury, his tensed muscles relaxed. The young brunette stood on her feet again, and her eyes found his instantly... The look of pure _hatred_ had him balling his fists just to stop himself from flinching. In that moment she really did look like an animal; a wild lioness trapped inside a human body. When she saw that Seneca was not going to speak again, she frowned at him in confusion – the look of hate never left her eyes. "Well, aren't you going to call the Peacekeepers and tell them to _imprison_ me?" She smirked sarcastically as her eyes took on a dark tone, "Get them to cut out my tongue for talking to you like this?"

Seneca was barely paying attention to her words because he was too caught up in her body language and the familiar-yet-unfamiliar look in her big, grey eyes. The girl that looked so young moved with a lethal precision, and that look in her eyes, behind the hatred and revulsion... It was the same look he saw in people of his own age, not hers. In that moment, he realized that the young girl stood before him had grown up long before she should have... In that single moment, his perspective on life changed – he saw _everything_ through her eyes. He saw that the Capitol used them like puppets, manipulated _human beings_ to do their dirty work and did not care for the damage they caused them at all. There he was in his expensive suit with mundane concerns like what time he was going to head home, and there _she _was... This strong woman trapped inside a child's body, covered in dirt and wearing hand-me-down clothing, worrying about whether or not she was going to live to see another day.

He realized that nothing had really been _that_ mesmerising in District 12 at all... Not until he had met her.

"You better get home before the Peacekeepers come on duty," He murmured emotionlessly. "You wouldn't want them to snip out that sharp tongue of yours, would you?" Seneca smirked in amusement at his choice of words, but his faux-kindness only made her that much angrier.

"Don't try and pretend that you understand," She hissed... But she made no move to head home. She just kept her eyes locked on his, and Seneca realized that she was searching them for something. Although her gaze was slightly intimidating, he refused to let her see that she was getting to him like no one had, before.

"I am not going to call the Peacekeepers on you, Miss...?"

"Everdeen," She mumbled; her voice was dreamlike, and he could tell that the teenager was lost in thoughts. Seneca took a deep breath and then smiled.

"_Everdeen_," He finished, "No first name?" He hinted after a moment of waiting for her to say or do something else. The dazed look on her face disappeared, and she seemed to go back to being cold and arrogant again.

"I don't let people like you call me by my first name," She sneered. "You all look down on us? Well, I look down on all of _you_."

"Suit yourself," Seneca smirked before changing the subject. "I am sure you know who _I_ am?"

"Seneca Crane," She mumbled in a monotone voice, "The Head Gamemaker of the Hunger Games; you have been for two years now."

"So you do," He grinned, and she scoffed at him before looking down at the rabbits on her belt.

"I'm leaving," She turned her head to the reservoir wall, and he can tell that she is wondering whether he got there the same way she must have. The mysterious and mesmerising Everdeen started walking off to the wall, and Seneca turned to the forest beyond the barbed fencing as he listened to her footsteps. Once they stopped, he frowned, and before he could turn to see if she was alright, her voice called: "Crane?"

"Yes, Everdeen?" He asked, turning around to face her as he did so. She offered him an almost-smile as she looked back at him, over her shoulder, from the middle of the meadow.

"Thank you for not turning me in."

He had watched her leave with a pitiful gaze and, later on, he realized that she had been the reason he went out there; to find people like her, though he didn't realize what for until much later on...

.x.x.

He cannot tell President Snow that he knew Katniss Everdeen before she entered the games. That tribute is a weakness of his, and he cannot come across as weak.

"No," He murmurs quietly in response to Snow's question, "Not personally..."

He doesn't pay much attention to everything else that the President has to say – that may be why he goes against his wishes of keeping it to one winner and makes it so there may be two, despite his disagreement.

Katniss Everdeen is an underdog, and Seneca Crane _loves_ an underdog.

...  
><em>AN: Despite having quite a few stories going already, I just couldn't resist writing this - It has been eating at me for days! Seneca/Katniss is quite an odd pairing, but they are really growing on me! Anyway, enjoy, + R&R? :) I think there'll be 2 more chapters, so keep checking up if you like it!  
><em>...


	2. A Masochist

Seneca feels like a masochistic fool as he watches _her_ lean down to capture Peeta Mellark's lips with her own in a long, meaningful kiss. The delicate touch of their lips remains silent, but it speaks a thousand words that he knows Katniss could never fathom, never mind explain. She is terrible at explaining her emotions, so it does not surprise him that she is using her body language to speak words she cannot begin to say aloud. He glances down at all of the Gamemakers, who seem to be as captivated by the sweetness and intensity of the moment, just as everyone else in the Capitol probably is as well.

It does nothing but make his stomach churn, but this may just keep her alive... So instead of taunting himself with the monster he has played a part in creating, he stares at the screen, but he is watching something else entirely. Another memory... Possibly the best one yet.

.x.x.

"You _know_," Katniss snapped as the elevator doors to the training room slid shut behind her, "Haymitch is pretty suspicious about your request to see me..." Her arrogant-yet-fearful grey eyes glanced up at the balcony, and when she saw that it was void of any Gamemakers, the District 12 tribute could not help but frown. She thought Seneca and a few of the other Gamemakers were going to be in here. They were when she was called down last time... She thought she was going to be punished for shooting an arrow through that damn apple, earlier. "Crane?" She called out much like she did on the day they first met as unease began to make her tense.

"You are distracting me from my work, Everdeen." Katniss sighed slightly in relief and walked further in to the room as she travelled to where she _thought _she heard Seneca's voice, but she was not so sure. The tribute checked each block, starting with the fire starting block. He was not there.

"And you're pulling me from an important talk with Haymitch, but you don't see me crying about it," She scoffed, unable to hide her disdain, and Seneca smiled to himself as he finished his painting. Just as he had placed the paintbrush in to some water for cleaning, the tribute found him. He turned to her and, as their eyes met, Katniss raised her eyebrows at him; Seneca instantly knew that this meant she wanted an explanation for why she was here. She may have been bad with words, but her body language said everything she wanted people to hear. She was an open book... And, _damnit,_ he was caught up in the story she told.

"Greetings, Everdeen," He murmured as he watched her lean against the frame of the camouflage block. She was dressed in her training outfit, and he was in his usual black-and-red suit. She rolled her eyes at him as she took note of his clothing – _same old Crane_.

"I thought you wanted me to shoot some more arrows at your head," The Tribute's features became a frown as she feigned disappointment, "Not play cameo – that's Peeta's specialty. You should've asked for him, not me."

"I didn't want him," He replied, the tone of his voice and the stern look in his eyes told her that this was the time to be serious. Katniss' face took on a serious look, but her eyes danced with a confusion and questions that he was too scared to answer. "Come here – I have something to show you."

After a moment of hesitation, Katniss let out a heavy sigh and walked over to Seneca's side. Although she knew she could joke with him, she could not shake the uncomfortable feeling that she was locked in a room with a hunter – _the_ hunter – especially after the shocked and then furious look he had given her after storming out without dismissal during her allocated time with the Gamemakers, earlier on in the day. He had ignored her, and that had infuriated her, but she knew that acting cocky about him secretly (or not-so-secretly, after giving her a score of 11) enjoying the shooting-the-apple trick now would not do her any favours. She could not read him the way he seemed to be able to read her, but she knew _that_ much. The tribute looked down at what he had been leant over moments before, and then gasped as she realized what it was.

"A map," She whispered. Seneca looked up from the map and to her face, but she was so entranced by what he had drawn that she didn't notice. Drawing a tribute a map of the arena was quite possibly the craziest and most dangerous thing that he has _ever_ done, but the thought of watching this young woman die in the arena was just _unthinkable_... The feeling of fear he had felt when he realized the confusion in her eyes returned, but he quickly pushed it aside again. She went to touch one of the painted trees, at that point, and before he could think about what he was doing he reached out and tapped her hand lightly. A warmth rushed through his hand as his skin grazed hers but, once again, he ignored it.

"Don't touch it," He mumbled distractedly due to his strange emotional changes, "It's not dry yet." Her eyes turned to his and, this time, that same warmth sent a shiver up his spine. _This is a dangerous game I'm playing_, he had told himself as she searched his eyes.

"Why are you helping me?" She whispered, her voice was full of confusion and her features were pulled down in to an adorable frown—_Wait_, he stopped his thoughts dead. _Adorable? _Her words were what he feared, and her quiet voice and look of complete confusion had him feeling as though he had been backed in to a corner and surrounded by a mob... But he was not surrounded by a mob – he was with Katniss Everdeen, the young girl who had grown up long before she should have... The sixteen-year-old girl who had taken her sister's place in the reaping; something that a mother would most likely do for their child if they were allowed the opportunity to do so.

"Because," He had whispered with a pitiful voice, "You don't deserve _any_ of this, Everdeen."

Katniss may not have been able to read the very strange-yet-friendly Seneca Crane, but in that moment she realized that was exactly what he was – her friend... And it made her angry because all of the other tributes – including Peeta – were going to suffer because he was being too lenient with her... The Head Gamemaker was tilting the odds in her favour; she _knew _that this was going on – people rooting for her, her score of 11... It was all because of him! She felt like a liar and a cheat, and that was worse than losing the games to her, at the time.

"None of us do," She spoke a little bit louder, then. Despite his words being kind and sincere, they backfired instantly as she glared at him with that same look of hate she had given him inside the fencing at District 12 last year. "Why me, Crane? Oh, I _know_ why – because only _one_ of us can survive, right? Because all of you stupid Capitol people think that it _has_ to be that way – that these games are just a fact of life, because _you_ never have to go through them! You'll never feel the pain of watching a child, a sister or a brother get killed whilst people watch on and laugh! You're monsters, you're all _disgusting_!"

"Everdeen-" Seneca tried to place his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down, but Katniss was too worked up. He knew that she did not understand, but he also knew that she was not going to let him finish. His touch did nothing but make Katniss flinch; her stomach churned as fresh anger ran through her. The question 'would you touch any of the other tributes?' bubbled on her lips, and then her hand was connecting with his cheek.

And then she froze.

_What did I just do, what did I just do, what did I just DO? _Repeated through her head over-and-over again, and when Seneca's infuriated, icy-blue eyes met hers she felt the walls she had built to stay strong beginning to crumble, because _now_ she had _really_ done it. Now, Seneca was going to hate her, and he was going to make her life a living hell in those games. He had tried to help her, and she just _had_ to play fair and ruin it. Despite knowing she did the right thing, she felt like she had betrayed Prim, and that... That was worse than cheating the games.

Seneca's anger drained as Katniss began to cry.

"Everdeen," He murmured as her sobs echoed through the training room. She fell to the ground and buried her head in between her knees as she cried, and he just stood there... He didn't know what to do. He could not comfort her as he felt too awkward doing so, so he decided to explain it to her. He grabbed the map, sat down beside her and took a deep breath. "Do you want me to tell you what I honestly think of the games?" No answer. He continued anyway, "Well, I will. I hate them, but there is nothing I can do about it... I will admit, at first I was excited, and I know you will not want to hear that but it's the truth and I won't lie to you. But, after the first games I led I realized that the people killed were innocent kids, and I was responsible for that... I still am to this day. So to answer your questions – yes, it is because only one of you can survive, and I am betting on you. These games _are_ a fact of life because, if I leave now, I'll be putting myself and my family in danger, and if I do something wrong they are in danger. By _helping you_ I am risking their life and my own, but... But I am going to help you anyway because I don't _want_ you to die. I don't want _any_ of you to die, but _especially_ not _you_."

When Katniss finally looked up, her eyes were brimming with tears and she was biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling. She did not look in to his eyes, but she did look down at the map he had painted for her. Gratitude washed through her in that moment, as well as a small understanding. Yes, someone could see this as something Seneca deserved – being trapped running the games – but she had never been one to enjoy a prisoners pain, no matter what they had done in the past to get there. She reached out for the map and he gladly gave it to her.

"Memorise it," He whispered, "There's no way you'll get it in there with you."

"Thank you," She finally met his eyes again, and the gratitude that shone underneath the tears had him locked in a trance, "Thanks for caring... I'm not going to lie and pretend that I don't hate what you've done, and what you're going to do, but I know what it's like..." Then, in a whisper, Katniss added, "Does Snow threaten Capitol families as much as ours?"

"Yes," He whispered back, and then scoffed darkly, "We are not as free as you think. Capitol citizens are just as trapped as you are – we may be better off, but we are not as despicable as we seem. I would say that over half of the audience do not really enjoy the games. It's fake..." His eyes glazed over as he stared off at one of the walls, "Everything is fake."

"District twelve isn't," Katniss murmured, "Everything is so painfully real, back home."

"I know," He nods, "That's why I want to help you... And why I care about your well-being. You are a living, breathing example of what makes this place so disgusting," Seneca built up the courage to take her hand in his, at that point. Katniss blinked a couple of times in surprise before looking down at their interlinked hands – when she looked up at him again a raging fire was burning behind his bright blue eyes, which completely distracted her from wondering whether-or-not it was right to let him hold her hand like he was, "I don't want you to succumb to the Capitol, Katniss. I want you to _fight_ and I want you to _win_... You have more power than you think; if you want things to change as much as I do then you _must win_, do you understand?"

"I... What?" She stuttered her words in disbelief, but then her jaw tightened and her expression becomes fearless as she realized that something must be taking place... Something _big_, "What's happened?"

"Nothing... Yet," He murmured, "But it will. These people love you more than you think, and I can tell that Snow is wary of you – but don't let that get to you, let it rile you on... You are strong – both emotionally and physically – and much smarter than the others. You're a woman compared to all of those children, and as much as it will hurt you to kill them you _have_ to make it out of this. If you don't, then more kids will die... This has to end," He hissed the last sentence; "This Dictatorship _has_ to _end._"

"Hey, hey," When Seneca came out of whatever daze he was in, Katniss was fully facing him and holding his hand in both of hers, "I understand, _Seneca_..." She smirked at the reaction he must have had when she called him by his first name, "I'll do it. I'll win this thing, no matter what."

"Good," His features softened at the look of determination on her face. She kept her eyes locked with his as he allowed himself to memorise every feature on her face – her nose, her full lips, her big, grey eyes, her long eyelashes, and the flush of her cheeks when she felt a powerful emotion surge through her... When Katniss boldly placed a hand on his cheek, he was pulled from his thoughts – before he knew it, he was letting her kiss him.

It was so, _so_ wrong – and they both knew that it would come back to haunt them, someday – but nothing had made him feel so complete, and nothing had made her feel more alive.

.x.x.

_Not until she was kissing Peeta in that cave._

The look in her eyes is the same look she had given Seneca after their kiss, and that is when he knows that he needs to get Peeta Mellark out of that arena – alive – just as much as he does Katniss. Without Peeta, Katniss will be consumed with guilt for all the scheming and planning she has done with Seneca, and the Gamemaker knows this. A Mockingjay without a wing will be useless for any sort of rebellion – although she will never be useless in his eyes, no matter what, he has to do what is right. As she rests her head on Peeta's chest, she looks up at one of the cameras inside the cave, and he sees that everything he had just guessed is one-hundred percent true. She is not looking at a camera – she is looking at _him_. With a resignated sigh, he turns to one of the Gamemakers and places a hand on their shoulder.

"I want a feast setting up – put something each District needs in a bag labelled with their number. I want the medicine that will heal the kid's leg in twelve's."

"I'm on it," The man nods. Seneca turns back to the screen where Katniss is now snuggled in to Peeta's side; his insides are burning with betrayal, but it doesn't matter how bad he feels.

He will do whatever it takes to get them _both_ out of there alive.


	3. That's Nightlock

_**Boom!**_

Katniss is forced out of her hunting stance as the cannon disrupts the wildlife around her. She looks up at the clear blue sky in irritation, and then the meaning of the cannon hits her. She takes off through the forest with a speed she never knew she could reach, screaming Peeta's name as she desperately searches for her star-crossed lover. She trips over roots and fallen trees and branches that seemingly appear from nowhere to scratch and claw at her face, but none of this stops her. One thought is on repeat in her mind and, until she proves herself wrong, she has to keep going.

_Is Peeta dead?_

She comes to a standstill as she reaches the small square of plastic she had got her hands on at the cornucopia bloodbath. As Katniss tries to catch her breath, she examines the collection of berries that sit on the sheet... She recognizes them... Deep black berries with liquid as red as blood in pools around them... Yes, she knows them, but where from?

.x.x.

"Why didn't you become an artist instead?" Katniss asked Seneca with a joking smile, "Or an architect? They seem like much better jobs than a lousy Gamemaker." Seneca's sky-blue eyes watched her as she swirled some berries in a pot to create a red paint from the juices. A smile slowly crept on to his face as she spoke; her Seam grey eyes were completely focused on the task at hand... She looked beautiful. And dangerous. This girl was not someone to be messed with.

"I had people to please," He replied – that merely earned a scoff from the sixteen-year-old tribute.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did. You're a thirty-two-year-old Capitol guy; you could do _whatever_ you want whether you do or don't have anyone's approval." She looked up at him with raised eyebrows, "I don't believe you."

"Haven't I already told you?" He plucked the berries from her hands and continued to stir them, "I'm not entirely free. Just because I live in the Capitol doesn't mean I can do whatever I want."

"So you choose kill people to make your parents happy?" Katniss murmured; the joking sparkle in her eyes had left. It had been replaced with the worry and concern she felt whenever she thought about the trouble that awaited her in the arena... An arena that Seneca had a hand in creating, "That's not justifiable no matter who you're trying to please."

"I know that," Seneca placed the pot of berries aside and Katniss turned away so he could not see the tears forming in her eyes. If Katniss Everdeen was not – _is not –_ something, that is weak... But she was scared; that hurt him. He didn't want her to be afraid of him, or of anything for that matter. He wanted to keep her safe... But he was too afraid to do that. The Head Gamemaker gently took her face in his hands and turned her eyes back to his. When he saw the tears falling down her cheeks, he brushed them away with his thumbs. This conversation had taken a turn for the worst, and he wanted to get back on track somehow. He looked around, up and down until his eyes landed on the pot of berries. He dropped one of his hands from her face and picked the pot up to examine its content.

"These berries are dangerous," He whispered, "They look delicious, but if you eat just one of these then you'll be dead in a minute."

"I know," She wiped her tears away and smiled in remembrance of her Father, "My Dad told me all about them. Nightlock," Katniss plucked one of the berries from a branch and rolled it around her fingers, "Nice name, don't you think?"

"I... Guess so?" He chuckled, thinking the comment to be rather random. Katniss' smile grew slightly at his laugh – she felt the need to explain her somewhat strange admiration for the name.

"Well, it is. It sounds much nicer than death... Like locking you in sleep," She frowned at how her explanation sounded aloud, and Seneca watched her with a highly amused expression. When she met his sparkling eyes she shook her head and began to chuckle, "Okay, maybe the name is as horrible as the berries."

He just laughed and then stole another kiss. Katniss' worries were soon forgotten.

...

_Nightlock. Peeta was picking Nightlock._

"Peeta!" Katniss screams as tears threaten to flood her eyes. He must have eaten some, he must be dead... She hears a set of heavy footsteps travelling towards her, though, which has her setting off through the woods again. Her heartbeat is racing and panic has closed her throat – she feels as though she can't breathe. _Please don't be dead,_ she silently pleads as she suddenly crashes in to another body. Once Katniss regains her balance from the blow she looks up. Relief floods through her, but the adrenaline from the panic has her scolding him. She doesn't know what would have happened if this had been someone else.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" Peeta asks, gawping at her petrified expression in confusion. Katniss looks down at his hand and quickly slaps the berries from his palm.

"THAT'S NIGHTLOCK, PEETA!" She shrieks, "YOU'D BE DEAD IN A MINUTE!"

"I-I-I didn't know, I..." He stutters his words and, when he looks in to her eyes, he realizes that maybe... Well, maybe this isn't entirely fake to her. Maybe she actually cares about him? She looks absolutely _petrified._

"You scared me to death!" Katniss' voice is still high pitched, but she is panting and it has lowered in volume dramatically. "Damn you!" Despite her harsh words, Katniss throws her arms around Peeta and holds him as tightly as she can. Peeta is quick to pull her closer, and Katniss finally sighs in relief. _Peeta's alive... He's alright, he's here, and he's alive._

Seneca is clutching one of the metal barricades surrounding the control room the whole time. He cannot decide if he is relieved, angry or jealous... _Probably a mix of the three_, he admits to himself. This is when he realizes that the choice he has made is the right one – he _has_ to keep the pair of them alive. Even though this assumption has now been solidified, he cannot help but feel like fear is settling in... Surely the President will kill him for it, and that probably shouldn't matter in the end...

But Seneca doesn't want to die.


	4. We're All Muttations

_Muttations._

Seneca cannot remember how long it has been since a Gamemaker last used muttations for the finale. He has always thought that they make a thrilling impact, but they are usually just wasted in the beginning to kill off some of the twenty-four tributes. The three-year Head Gamemaker does not see any point in that; muttations are expensive. What is the point on spending more money on the first kills than the last? Finales are supposed to be spectacular – using mutts earlier on in the games makes for an exciting turn of events but the finales have never lived up to them.

So, this year, he is waiting.

Seneca had these games planned out _long_ before the tributes names were put in to those reaping balls and, no matter what happens, he is determined to keep them as they are. He cannot go back on his final decisions now - that would lead to a lot of questions from his co-workers and maybe even the audiences. _No, _he internally snaps, _the games will stay as they are... Even if this mutt looks like it could eat someone whole. I will let Atala put it in to the arena._

Six months ago, when Seneca was in this very room planning the games, the thought of falling in love with someone who could face death because of his decisions _never_ crossed his mind. As he watches the beast tear the big male from Eleven apart he can feel goose pimples rise on his arms. That thought crosses his mind now... And it terrifies him more than personally meeting that mutt ever could.

**.x.x.**

"I _really_ shouldn't be out here," A tired Katniss had grumbled as she followed the Head Gamemaker out to a wide patch of grass that the Capitol workers actually called a garden. Personally, Katniss thought it to be nothing but a square of fake green sticks, but those sticks felt real enough under the palms of her hands so she didn't complain... _Too much_.

"And you care?" Seneca asked with a raised brow – his gelled hair reflected the white light of the moon as he turned to look at her, "What'll they do? Kill you?" Katniss' grunted response told him what they both already knew – they were going to do that anyway.

"I guess there's no point in prolonging the inevitable then," The brunette shrugged in defeat before allowing herself to sit on the grass she was stroking. As soon as she was comfortable she began to weave her fingers in to the silky green blades – they were a lot softer than the woods weeded grass, but if she closed her eyes she could almost imagine being sat in the little cave that she often went to with Gale. Katniss did not notice that Seneca was watching her – she was too busy trying to conjure up the sounds of the Mockingjays whistles and the scurrying footsteps of squirrels as they passed by.

Instead of breaking the silence they had slipped in to, Seneca just continued to watch Katniss. She looked like... Like she was at home – it immediately gave him the vibe that she was only _really_ herself when there was nature nearby. It made him happy that he had designed the arena after her; he was certain that she was going to realize that the idea for a forest arena came to him after they first met. Of course, he did not know that she would be venturing in to the games at the time, but it was definitely a comfort now that he knew she was. She would know what to do and how to survive... She could win the games and return home. The odds were definitely in her favour – hers more than _anyone_ else's! For a split second the Head Gamemaker caught himself hoping that she would get to see her own woods again, someday. He wondered what they looked like-

"What?"

Seneca's pale blue eyes were full of confusion as he turned to Katniss. She was gazing at him with furrowed brows and a questioning gaze; once he realized that he must have spoken aloud he asked again.

"What're they like...? The woods, I mean."

One of those rare smiles made an appearance, at that point, and he was glad that he asked.

"Home; they remind me of home... I just feel like I can be me, there... That there's no one who I need to please." When she ran out of words to describe her thoughts she began to bite her lower lip and then plucked out some of the grass they were sat on, "Nothing like this. This is fake."

"It is?" Seneca frowned, "It seems pretty real to me."

"It's alive, but it's not _real_. It's like..." She spent a moment thinking about what she could compare it to – when something came to mind her eyes lit up, "Like muttations!"

"You're comparing grass to muttations?" Seneca chuckled as he plucked some grass from the ground and then held it up to examine it, "You could turn it in to one, though. Programme it to twist and entangle itself around whoever walks on it. Not a bad idea, actually. It'd slow you down."

"I didn't mean like that," Katniss' cold tone spoke two words very clearly – _shut up_. "That stuff has already been 'programmed' anyway," She picked out one of the blades and held it up for Seneca to see, "See how it's perfect? Every blade of grass on this patch is exactly the same length, width and colour. I'll bet it was made in your fancy labs."

"So it is," Seneca mused, "I've never thought about that. It's just grass, to me."

Katniss scoffed at that and, as much as he wanted to know why, he never asked. Maybe he just wanted to think of it as an accident... Or maybe he was too scared to hear the answer. So, instead, he took her hand in his, brushed the grass from her palm and then sighed.

"Would you compare us to mutts?"

Her hand went rigid in his as her body tensed up.

"You're all ignorant. Mutts are programmed to do stuff... There's no excuse for humans," She replied coldly. He wanted to see her facial expression but she was gazing up at the stars dotted across the midnight sky, so he could only see her in profile. It was obvious enough that she was angry, thought.

"Maybe you're thinking about it wrong," Seneca murmured as he looked at the Training Centre – the place where his co-workers were sat in the control room testing out the various pods in the arena; pods that were soon to be killing innocent children, "Maybe we're programmed, too."

It took her a moment of staring at the stars before she corrected him, "Brainwashed."

"They are the same thing," He whispered, "Brainwashing... Programming; they both produce the same results."

"Intimidation, too." Katniss finally turned back to him, but he regretted wishing that she would once he read the look in her eyes. It was unsettling. The Seam grey of her eyes was as cold as stone... He had seen that expression before. It was usually worn by a rebel or criminal before they went on a rampage, and those _always _have terrible consequences.

"Yes," Seneca felt like all he could do was agree, for he was too scared to find out what would happen if he didn't, "Yes it does."

After that they slipped in to a tension-filled silence, and he finally realized why there was such a huge social difference between the Districts and the Capitol. All of them are mutts, really – the only difference is that Capitol citizens are mental mutts whilst the District citizens are physical mutts. That is why the Capitol care about nothing more than getting the ridiculous and unnecessary objects they desire, whilst the District citizens physically obey the Capitol but mentally plan a rebellion against them.

**.x.x.**

Seneca really wishes that he had figured all of that out before he had agreed to be the Head Gamemaker. Maybe he wouldn't feel so trapped within his own life, if he had.

Ignorance really is bliss, but it also makes you foolish.

**...**

**_So, as you can see, I have decided to add some more chapters to this. I'm not sure how many I will be doing, probably up to 7/8 overall. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, alerted or even read this story so far. :)_**


	5. I Promise

Everybody in Panem has their eyes locked on whatever television or projector they can find as the finale of the 74th annual Hunger Games plays out. Somewhere, in an arena built strategically by the Capitol, this is happening live... That either excites or disgusts the citizens in this lone country. In other circumstances, the Head Gamemaker – Seneca Crane – would have found this to be the most exciting finale of all time; the two star-crossed lovers of District 12 fighting a _career_ for their lives... For their future.

This is the moment that it all comes down to... And, as Head Gamemaker, Seneca has a choice to make. Does he keep them both alive, or does he revoke the rule change and let Katniss hate him forever?

_She hated me before all of this happened. What difference does it make?_

He almost scoffs at his own ridiculous question. The difference _is_ that he has fallen irrevocably in love with her, so going back to that is just... It hurts too much to think about. The whole 'star-crossed lovers of District 12' title is almost amusing, considering that the real star-crossed couple is Katniss and himself... Although both relationships are doomed, in any case. _I was stupid_, he finally decides. _I allowed myself to love and look where it has gotten me... Caring for District citizens and considering carrying out a suicide mission in order to save her and her boyfriend_.

How_ pathetic._

He knows that this is the truth, but he cannot help but think of how happy she has made him. From the moment they first kissed to their parting words he has never felt so... _Alive._ He has spent his whole life trying to impress others and then she came along. Katniss is the first person he has met who has taken him by surprise and openly admitted that he could never impress her. She is exciting, breathtaking, stunning... _Refreshing_. All of the past tributes that have been entered in to the Games have been so _predictable_, but she has defied all of the odds along with her fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark, and has made it to the final three... He can tell from the dangerous spark in her Seam grey eyes that she'll be _damned_ if either one of them dies now.

But Seneca is scared.

Peeta and Katniss are battling with Cato as they all try to stay on top of the Cornucopia and throw the enemy down to the mutts at the same time. The canine-like beasts' prowl around the Cornucopia as the tributes fight; they growl and claw at the metal structure occasionally, especially when they see one of them heading closer to the edge. The high-pitched sounds of their claws scraping down the steel have everyone in the audience cringing but they cannot turn away – not now. Cato has got hold of Peeta in a very familiar way – it is the way he had clung on to the male from 3 before he snapped his neck. Everyone can see what he is threatening to do.

Seneca's heart is racing as adrenaline seeps in to his veins. He tries to cling on to a metal bar for some form of support but perspiration causes them to slip off of the steel: _he has to make a decision_. Kill Peeta or kill himself? Die knowing that Katniss will be happy, or live despite knowing the woman he loves despises him... _Is that really living?_ He knows that the answer to that is a resounding _no_, but the thought of ending his own life is still terrifying.

He starts to hope that Cato will kill Peeta.

_It will be painless. Just a quick twist and he will be completely paralyzed. No pain whatsoever... It is probably the nicest death in the arena and this tribute is offering it up to Peeta on a silver platter._

Seneca knows that none of these thoughts will make him feel less guilty f, but he continues to hope. _Hope_. The Gamemaker smirks deprecatingly as he thinks back to his conversation with Snow; _it is the only thing stronger than fear._

All thoughts are cut off at the newest turn of events. Peeta must have been signalling something to Katniss as, suddenly, one of her deadly silver arrows is shooting through the air. The point lands straight in to Cato's hand and the career lets out a yell of pain as he stumbles backwards – releasing Peeta in the process. The baker turns and quickly shoves Cato in the chest. The audience let out a collective gasp as the 18-year-old falls over the edge of the Cornucopia and in to the vicious clutches of the mutts.

"_Fuck_," Seneca curses aloud, spitting the word as he does. This shocks the majority of his fellow Gamemakers, but he does not care about what they think about his very unusual outburst. About half of them turn their eyes back to the screen whilst the other half begin to watch their boss pace back-and-forth across his usual spot on the outer balcony that overlooks the control panels. _What now, what now, what now?_ Katniss and Peeta have come down from the Cornucopia by now. The pair are looking up to the sky expectantly. They are awaiting an announcement...

He makes his decision.

"Atala, tell Claudius that the decision for two victors has... Has been revoked. There can only be one victor."

There... It's done.

_At least I kept my promise._

**.x.x.**

After around ten minutes of nothing but passionate kisses and the odd few pauses for breath, Katniss finally drew away from the man who was driving her crazy. She felt like his touches were igniting small sparks on her skin and, after letting the crackles of electricity run through her for so long, she had to have a break and re-collect her jumbled thoughts. Seneca's striking blue eyes opened as he felt the loss of her lips against his own, and then his facial expression turned in to a frown upon glancing at her uneasy facial expression.

"What's up?" He panted before pushing himself up from where he had been laid on the grass. Katniss broke her eyes away from his as she felt the desire to continue with their kisses threaten to overtake her. Instead, she began to nervously play with the disarrayed plait in her hair and admire the Training Centre.

"I can't..." She let out a shaky scoff before continuing in a fast, panicked tone, "I can't _justify_ what I'm doing right now. You're the Head Gamemaker and I'm a tribute, Seneca! What're we _doing_?"

"We're living," He replied with a shocking and very sudden intensity, "Because if this is the only chance that I get to be with you then screw _all_ of them because I'm taking it!"

"You could be with me, though!" She had almost snapped the words, "When all of this is over you could have me! If I win this thing then I will come back to you... Just... Just wait until I get out of the Games, okay?"

Wait for that... He knew that her return wasn't _guaranteed_ to happen. Her life may have been in his hands but he wasn't _God_ – he didn't get the final say in who lived or died; that was a matter of luck, strategic planning and _– of course –_ the odds being in a tributes favour. But they were, weren't they? He had given her the map _and_ he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her alive. If she memorised this arena and managed to keep a firm grip on her sanity, Katniss Everdeen could win.

And, with his help, she would be unstoppable.

"Listen to me," Seneca took her shaking face in to his hands and forced her to look him in the eyes, "I'm going to promise you something, alright? I promise you that I will do _whatever_ it takes to get you out of that arena alive... Whether you chose to have me or not you will make it out. You _will_ go back to District Twelve; I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you," She had barely whispered her response as she stared in to those intense, captivating cerulean eyes of his. Katniss had never been a girl of many words, but her next line came so naturally to her that she said it without a moment's hesitation, "But you don't have to worry... I would never want anyone else."

He had wanted to kiss her as passionately as he had before upon hearing that but, instead, he planted a soft kiss to her forehead and allowed her to melt in to his arms. He banished the thought of what she would be soon heading in to and focused on holding her... Because that was a promise he could only _hope_ to keep.

**.x.x.**

Katniss isn't happy.

That cold look is in her eyes – the one that made an appearance whilst they had discussed the brainwashing of the Capitol on that very night. Her newest nickname seems very fitting, because despite her icy gaze this girl certainly is on fire as she blatantly refuses to kill Peeta but, more importantly, _refuses_ to play along with the Capitol's rules. _What is she doing? _Seneca wonders desperately as she reaches in to her jacket pocket. He wants her to kill him so badly; if both himself and Katniss survive this then he'll fix her. He will help her get over the loss of Peeta Mellark and they can be together... But, as Katniss holds out those Nightlock berries, Seneca Crane realizes what this is.

She is using his promise against him.

_I'm foolish_, he sighs in agitation as her eyes connect with the camera... But it's not really the camera she is looking at, it is him. The look screams _if you don't get us both out of here alive then I'm not coming out of here at all_. This is defiance against the Capitol and she is _stupid_ to not realize that, but right now all Katniss Everdeen is thinking about is manipulating Seneca Crane in to getting both tributes from District 12 out of that arena alive. This miniature act of rebellion is a spark and, if the spark ignites, it could become a ferocious blaze that even the Capitol would not be able to quench.

"Stop them! Atala, tell them that they've both won! Do it now!" Seneca snaps in determination as he meets his co-workers chocolate eyes. The whole control room fills with silence. Atala tells Claudius what Seneca said and all eyes are on him as she does so. Once Katniss and Peeta have been congratulated by Claudius on being the victors of the74th annual Hunger Games, Seneca heads out of the control room to spend the final hours of his life in peace.

Because giving up his life may just save a thousand more... And, as terrified as he is, he cannot live with the guilt.

Katniss has _helped him _realize that.


End file.
